70 FRANK SMITH STERLING .... , -$ , ") ..... Ji ' '" ) } f t \. t I \ \ ! I \ :" '. , ., :,..., q- " ... , to ".... ,*! .... For those families whose traditions have always included the quiet authority of unImpeachable possessions: Fiddle Shell. Service for 12, $587. At Herschede's, Cincinnati; Hudson's, Minneapolis; Schwarzchild's, Richmond; Bromberg's, Birmingham; Howes, Pasadena; Taylor's, Corpus Christi; Caldwell's, Phila.; Galt's, Wash. Frank Smith Silver Co., Division of Webster Co., North Attleboro, Mass. Silversmiths since 1896. GOLDEN HONEYCOMB fifteen miles inland. \Ve were soon lost again, in a maze of chal111ing lIttle lanes. " 'Gifford doesn't eelll to want to see us tonight,' said Mrs. Cailleron, drawing up at the side of a lane whIle Mr. Cameron lit a cigarette for her. " ' 1 h " , " d "'\ , l ave maps In 111Y car, sal ..LV r. Cameron, 'but we're not in m) car.' " 'If I have a 111ap, I nL-ver get to my destination,' saId }/lrs. Cameron. 'I invariably see some place with a tan- talizing name and I veer off and go there.' " '\Ve j lIst went through the vIllage of Duns.' " ' D 0 ' lIns. h, Duns: Then we're only d few l11iles fro1l1 a place some- body told me dhollt on Iv the other day, at Long-something. LCJngwich? Long- mackie? ' " 'I don't know.' " 'It's a house-hotel and it's SOll1e- thing-burne.' "A very aged countryman Ca1l1e hob- bling toward us along the lane at this point, and when he got abreast of us, Mrs. Call1erOn hailed him politely, and the two of them had an animated chat about crops and sheep, but he was un- able to tell her w hère the something- burne hotel in Long-soillething was. " 'Oh, blast it!' she said, after he had hobhled on. 'It's exactly where we ought to go tonight. It's ovvned by a painter, who lives there with his fam- ily, and it's up in the Lammermuirs. There's a very small village, I was told, and from the inn there is not an- other house in sight in any direction. It attracts artists and writers, 1.nd there's quite a library, these peoplè said. It's quite high in thè hills, and they said that on a clear day you could look down all the way to the sea, twenty mIles away. Oh, damn it! And this is a clear evening and the sun is just going down.' " '\Ve must find out where it is from our friends and take McKelway there on another day,' said Nlr Cameron. " Oil..J h ' d .., _ ow we aven t any estInatIon, said Mrs. Cameron. "'I've just thought vf something,' saId Mr. Cameron. He turned to me and asked, 'Do you like Danish food?' " ' I d ' I " d sure 0, sal. " 'Oh, Ian, you are a dear!' Mrs. Cameron said, and then, to me, 'Duns is only ten or fifteen miles from :Vlelrose, and there is a splendid little inn quite near there, where they have a very superior çmörgåsbord and exceptional soup, which the proprietress makes her- self. It's just what we want, after those drinks' She whIpped the car around and presumably headed for Duns. "It turned out to be a comparatively straIght course from Duns to \1elrose